A Crazy, Beautiful Life
by silverfox98
Summary: Unrelated drabbles, one-shots, and pretty much everything else! Many are responses to several challenges.
1. Music

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately, all is owned by JK Rowling.**

**Okay so I cheated, this is ISPIRED by the challenge. And I took liberties by going ONE WORD over the limit! Rebelling**

Eyes sparkling, Ginevra danced on the stage, her head dropping to the beat as her bow zipped over strings, quick and easy. Her eyes closed as she let blood-red curls spill free down her back. Skipping down the steps, her hands gracefully played across, over the violin. Her simple, yet modest, sparkling emerald dress molded perfectly to her curves, spaghetti straps criss-crossed over her otherwise bare back, making her fair skin shine like porcelain. As she finished, a light and easy tune picked up on her own melody and started up a fast paced duet.

The keys gleamed in the darkness as Draco watched her skip over, her eyes closed, lost in the music. His long slender hands flew with practiced grace and precision over the long, grand piano. He let a soft smirk grace his lips, platinum hair falling into burning slate eyes as he watched the audience sway in time. His black tuxedo was tailored perfectly and fit his lean, tall frame. His angular face was not quite handsome, but striking. He radiated power and elegance. His hands paused, letting Ginny finish. They both stopped in time with each other.

Clapping could be heard from the middle of the Manor auditorium. A young boy, barely age ten watched in fascination as his mother came to life, dancing gracefully up and down the gleaming planks. His father held a rare smile, playing easily and almost lovingly. The boy's mercury eyes matched his father's as he watched with longing, wanting to run his own delicate fingers over the black and white keys. The man sitting next to him, with ivory skin and dark black hair, clapped, smirking slightly.

_One day... A_ soft glow caught his eye, as a beautiful sapphire necklace hung from a silver chain, glittering in the soft light.

**My Response to the DG Forum OSS Thread Challenge!**

**The OSS Drabble Challenge, Round 3**

Peruse the OSS Thread and find an already existing sentence that strikes your fancy, then either expand the sentence (so that it is a part of your drabble) or write a prequel or a sequel to the sentence.

Include the original sentence and its author when you post your drabble - give credit where due. You do not need to include the three word prompt for the sentence.

**Guidelines:**

Like the OSS, drabbles should be D/G centric

Do not exceed 300 words, **excluding** the original sentence. As the Ravenclaw HOH, I _will_ make you edit.

You may post more than one drabble.

You may use a sentence that someone else has already used.

You may use one of your own sentences.

You have until** April 30** to post.

**Exactly 301 words! Not my best but… **

**BeatTheStatic: sparkle, simple, necklace**


	2. Broken

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, never will, wish I did but I don't so… All belongs to J.K Rowling.**

**NOW, this is my ACTUAL response to the OSS Thread Challenge! I don't really do angst but… this caught my eye**

_He held her hand in his, her skin ice cold, and vowed to himself that he would not grant her killer an easy death; he would torture him the man to insanity, and then finish him off._

His mercury eyes shone, yet they were carefully blank, holding no grief as he held his beautiful queen in his arms. Her hair, the color of her flowing red blood, tumbled down her pale back, her eyes closed. No longer would her chocolate eyes shine for him when she laughed, or when she was ready to throw something. No longer would he feel her warm touches or hear her breathy moans as they made love, hidden away from the world. She looked like a saint, gathered up in his pale arms. He sunk to his knees, the breeze tossing his platinum hair as he stared blankly, shaking.

She had promised, promised her light would never go out, the flames would burn as long as he was there. She had lied, struck down like a puppet. His heart grew a shield of ice, hardening; no one would ever be able to penetrate his shield. He had loved once, and now she was gone. He didn't see as the enemy retreated, or as Harry and the others fled back into Hogwarts to recover and grieve. All he could see was red, hot, blind fury as he watched the murderer run through the Forbidden forest.

_Retreta. I shall be back. You killed her, my only love and I shall make sure you regret it tenfold before I leave you at Death's door._

_My Ginevra… why'd you leave me…_

**Okay so this is my first attempt at angst. Its really bad but I liked the concept. **

**The OSS Drabble Challenge, Round 3**

Peruse the OSS Thread and find an already existing sentence that strikes your fancy, then either expand the sentence (so that it is a part of your drabble) or write a prequel or a sequel to the sentence.

Include the original sentence and its author when you post your drabble - give credit where due. You do not need to include the three word prompt for the sentence.

(for example: This drabble is inspired by Starlit Skyes's sentence, "Draco noticed how Ginny's eyes, the color of warm, melting chocolate, shone in joy as they danced to the slow music of the annual Christmas ball.")

**Guidelines:**

Like the OSS, drabbles should be D/G centric

Do not exceed 300 words, **excluding** the original sentence. As the Ravenclaw HOH, I _will_ make you edit.

You may post more than one drabble.

You may use a sentence that someone else has already used.

You may use one of your own sentences.

You have until** April 30** to post.

**Words: 273 **

**The sentence by: blurry-blurb. Thanks!**


	3. Labor Pains

**Disclaimer: I. own. Nothing. (Or else I would be filthy rich right now)**

**Prompt: **_Draco stared at the Healer's certificate on the wall of the St. Mungo's office, totally paralyzed by how quickly his life was speeding by, but Ginny was oblivious to his panic and was excitedly making lists of names for the impending doom-uh, baby._

Draco stared at the Healer's certificate on the wall of the St. Mungo's office, totally paralyzed by how quickly his life was speeding by, but Ginny was oblivious to his panic and was excitedly making lists of names for the impending doom—uh baby. Nine months along, and Ginevra's belly was bulging under her dress. She sat content on the other side of his desk, on a leather chair, with a book listing millions of names and a piece of parchment as she made a long list of suitable "Malfoy-ish" names. He was content to sign a large packet of documents, and let his wife pick out a name for the Malfoy heir. Suddenly, he heard a startled cry as she jerked her entire body in pain. He turned quickly, running around his desk in haste, tripping over a trash can, and holding a gentle hand to her jiggling belly.

"Are you okay love, you hurt anywhere," he asked in a soothing voice, not quite thinking straight,

"OF COURSE I DON'T FEEL ALRIGHT! WHAT KIND OF HEALER ARE YOU?"

"Wha-What's wrong darling? Back pains?"

"I'M GOING THROUGH LABOR YOU IDIOT!" she screamed, squeezing his hands painfully. He blinked, and blinked again. Suddenly, everything came into focus.

"Hang on!" he yelled, not looking at all polished, and dashed through the doors, as she screamed at him to hurry and how much of an incompetent Healer he was.

14 hours later, and much of it Ginny spent screaming bloody murder while Draco paced outside until he was called away (forced) to attend to a women, Alexander Malfoy was born. His hair was shockingly white (shooting down all bets concerning pink-haired babies), yet he held sapphire eyes inherited from Uncle Ron.

A wail, resembling Ginevra's best, could be heard ringing through the halls of the Hospital. Let it be known that Ginny would never, EVER, let her husband forget when he totally lost his cool and broke down in front of the whole Weasley clan.

**And done! Awww poor Draco, totally lost. He was really OOC but I thought it was cute. Reviews please! No Flames! **

**289 words EXCLUDING the original sentence.**


	4. OH MERLIN! or THE POOR MOLE!

**Disclaimer: Nothing, I own nothing. **

**Okay here's my next one. My goal: one a day! I doubt I'll remember. But I'm trying! **

**Prompt: **_The kids were rushing about the manor, creating mischief and mayhem as usual, but Ginny didn't dare try to pinpoint exactly what kind of mischief it was, knowing that if it was a bad thing, she'd most assuredly hear about it-and she was right, for not a second later, she heard an exclamation of: "WILLIAM MALFOY! YOU HURT MY PET MOLE! I'M TELLING MUM!"_

_The kids were rushing about the manor, creating mischief and mayhem as usual, but Ginny didn't dare try to pinpoint exactly what kind of mischief it was, knowing that if it was a bad thing, she'd most assuredly hear about it-and she was right, for not a second later, she heard an exclamation of: "WILLIAM MALFOY! YOU HURT MY PET MOLE! I'M TELLING MUM!"_

If there was anyone to blame for all the mischief caused in the gigantic manor, she was sure to blame their twin uncles, who found a need to indulge her poor children in pranks,

"_But Gin-bug, can't you see they need to have some excitement in their life? asked Fred._

"_HA, excitement my arse_," thought the youngest Weasley as she fooled around with her messy pontytail. They got into enough trouble without their uncles sending weekly pranks to "_encourage" _their imagination. Ginny paused, suspicious as the manor halls became deathly quiet, the usually echoes of pounding footsteps and incessant arguing paused. Even the old portraits held in their breath. _It was quiet; too quiet… is that what those Muggles said?_ She thought distractedly. Suddenly a loud shout rang out and she sighed in exasperation, turning away from the oven, (she refused to let the House Elf's cook, to their immediate horror) and stared aghast as Adam came tearing over to her, his face red with tears, as he held his poor mole limply. Blood seemed to be flowing from a wound to its side. William watched in the shadows laughing, - until Ginny turned to him with a fierce gleam in her eye.

"I didn't do anything! Honest Mum!" he cried, plastering on an innocent expression that he, no doubt, inherited from his God-forsaken father.

"ADAM JEREMIAH MALFOY, YOU EXPLAIN RIGHT NOW WHY WILLIAM'S PET IS BLEEDING! RIGHT NOW, I WANT TO HEAR A DECENT EXPLANATION OR I WILL GET GRANDMUM OVER HERE!" She screamed, her bright eyes narrowed like a cat.

"Bu-bu-but," he stuttered, "Uncle George sent me fake blood and said I should test it out!" he cried, batting his eyelashes for effect as his blue eyes grew wide. Ginny tried, she truly did, but she just could be mad for long with him giving her THE LOOK.

"Adam darling, how many times do I have to tell you, no pranks in the house!" she narrowed her eyes, sighing and ruffling his platinum hair so like his fathers,

"I'm going to send you to Grandma Weasley for the rest of the day, you can tell her why you got send to the Burrow instead of going broom shopping with me and William here!" she said darkly, Adam gasped. William smirked satisfied.

That night, Ginny groaned into her pillow as she settled down to sleep with Draco. He let an arm drift over to rest lightly onto her stomach. He smiled sleepily and nudged her neck. 

"Draco, Draco honey," she cooed, trying to shake him awake,

"Mmph-"he groaned,

"We really must do something about the boys," she whispered,

"Ginny, it's late, I want to sleep!" he slurred, too sleepy to even argue properly. She huffed, irritated. Slowly, a slow smirk (Draco rubbed off on her) tugged at her full lips. Draco felt her still and immediately turned towards her in confusion,

"Ginny? Gin?" he would never admit it of course, but he was quite scared of his wife. She should have been in Slytherin; there was no Gryffindor nobility in her actions. Not. At. All.

"Well then Draco, _darling,_" she murmured too sweet to be real, "Then why don't _you _take care of the boys tomorrow hmm?" she asked, tapping her finger to her chin in mock thought, "Yes, I believe I will go shopping tomorrow Draco," she said, smirking.

"But-"

"No-"

"But Gin-" Draco pleaded, he did not want to take care of the two devils he called sons, he loved them unconditionally, but it didn't meant he wanted to _take care _of them. He could argue, Ginny had fallen asleep with a satisfied smile on her lips. He groaned, running a hand through his hair.

_Oh dear Merlin…_

**And done! A little longer than 300 hmm? 645 in fact. Not long but not 300 either. I just got carried away! Oh well!**


	5. Mine

**Disclaimer: ****I disclaim… *sigh* Nothing is mine.**

**SO, I forgot to write one yesterday (4/12) for shame :/ so I'm uploading two to please everyone and myself. I'm getting these prompts of course from the DG Forum OSS challenge, but if any of you want to give me a challenge, I might write one if I like the idea. Nothing too depressing, or smutty please. I love humor!**

**Prompt: **_"Sanctuary!" she cried, her fist pounding on the heavy wooden door through the streaking midnight rain, "Please, someone-I-" she sobbed, screaming as her pursuer aimed a jet of green squarely through the cracked door and into the prior's chest, then scooped her up, carrying home the sodden heap of frightened tears, black wool and bright red tresses; the girl was his, and would __never__ leave._

_ A curse flew towards her. She cried, trying to run as she tripped blindly as tears of pain and suffering streamed down her face, staining her cheeks and drenching her blouse. Her hair flew wildly and her skirt was ripped to shreds. Another jet of bright, sickly green flew over, singing her hair, encouraging her to dash down the dark street. She gasped; a large home loomed over her. She dashed for cover, the incessant rain pouring down her shivering back. _

_"Sanctuary!" she cried, her fist pounding on the heavy wooden door through the streaking midnight rain, "Please, someone-I-" she sobbed, screaming as her pursuer aimed a jet of green squarely through the cracked door and into the prior's chest, then scooped her up, carrying home the sodden heap of frightened tears, black wool and bright red tresses; the girl was his, and would __never__ leave._

He watched, silent as ever, a load moan of pain erupting from the previously unconscious girl. A frown marred his features as she struggled to sit. His eyes narrowed to slits, and he smoothly swept a hand to support her back. She stiffened, too tired to register the hazy face. Soothed, Ginny settled into his open palm, delirious.

"Oh Ginevra—"he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on her pale shaking back. She froze, finally pulling strength into her tired limbs to push his arm limply away. _Only one person ever called her that_… Suddenly, all the memories came flooding back, and she cried out, scrambling out of the rickety bed before collapsing on the floor.

The man just smiled cruelly, measured steps agonizingly slow, made their way towards her huddled figure. Her limp hair hung, shadowing her face, her normally bright eyes dull with fear and horror. He struck. His hand came down hard, leaving a bright purple welt on her right cheek; he backhanded her, sending her flying towards the wall. She had no strength to fight as he grabbed her by the neck, capturing her bright lips with his, and biting down hard, drawing blood. He launched her body at the opposite wall. She fell.

_Mine, I am the Boy-Who-Lived, and you are MINE! _

**297 words! Well it WAS 310 or something but I tried! Its again, not what I normally do (actually I've never done something like this) but I'm dabbling!**


	6. Fake Boyfriend

**Disclaimer:**** Blah Blah Blah, I dislaim**

**And Numero dos! Hope you like! Again, open to any prompts you might give me! Well, almost any.**

**Prompt: **_Ginny flashed Draco a desperate look that cried 'save me;' Draco scowled but walked over to her, put an arm around her waist and shined his best trademark smirk at the man Ginny wanted to get away from, "Can I help you, Potter?"_

Her life had gone from bad, to worse. The annoying source of her problems? Harry Potter. She had just wanted to be able to eat in peace in the kitchens, while she munched on blueberry pancakes liberally covered with butter and syrup. But OF COURSE, he just had to show up with an "apologetic" look on his face, his eyes were wide, his lip stuck in a pout. Honestly, it maybe would've looked cute when he was, like, FIVE!

"Cut the crap Harry, what do you want?" she growled, not yet having her frappuccino with double shots in her system. He wilted, his green eyes glittering. She just sighed, running a weary hand through her red hair. When he saw she wouldn't give in, he took the defensive.

"Ginny…," he cried, confused at her sudden change of heart,

"I just needed to…"

"I know Harry. Search for Horcruxes," she rolled her eyes,

"But I ALSO know you shagged Cho, don't deny it," she shook her head at his surprised expression; he never was good with covering his expressions up. Not like Draco. Where was that coming from?

"Gin, I love you! Come on, give me another chance!"

"No."

"I'll get your brother," he smiled triumphantly.

"That's low Potter," she growled. Right when she was quite ready to smack him (coffee be ) The blond sex god sauntered in with lazy grace. The minute he turned their way Ginny flashed Draco a desperate look that cried 'save me;' Draco scowled but walked over to her, put an arm around her waist and shined his best trademark smirk at the man Ginny wanted to get away from, "Can I help you, Potter?" She had to suppress the urge to lean in and catch a whiff of that distinct, "_Malfoy" _Harry spluttered,

"You're with him?" he nearly yelled out.

"Um… yeah, sorry Harry," she tried looking apologetic, sighing. He stormed away, muttering profanities and glowering at the House Elf's.

"So…" Draco said, amusement making his eyes glow.

"I'm your boyfriend now?"

"Shut up."

**Okay, I think it's safe to say this is my worst. But I promised two and well… here you go. 200 something words, too lazy to check…**


	7. Locked in a Tower

**Disclaimer:**** DO I seriously have to go through with this on EVERY chapter? I own nothing. **

**And so my readers, here ya go! Please read and review k? As I said before, if you have a plot idea for a one-shot, I'd be happy to hear it. Nothing extreme though! I need the help too. **** I know this whole plot is incredibly cliché but…**

**Prompt: **_If perchance she did get to sleep, Ginny hoped she would dream of him once more.___

She tossed and turned, you red hair splayed out over the fluffy pillow, listening to the pouring rain pound on the windows of Gryffindor Tower. She watched a draft whisper, rustling the canopy of her bed. Her brown eyes closed again, trying to let the incessant rain lull her to sleep. If perchance she did get to sleep, Ginny hoped she would dream of him once more. If she concentrated, she could almost hear his low voice, picturing his pale hair glinting in the moonlight, his mercury eyes glowing, but then she would open her eyes, and tears form as she remembers. _He's gone. _Reality hits hard, as closes her eyes again, hoping to dream of the better days, where the world was her haven, and he was her prince in shining armor. What did her mother say? _To love a prince, is just setting yourself up for heartbreak. _Her mother was right, she was wrong. He had left her as quick as he came. Lighting struck, illuminating the room. She sighed, relishing in the loud pounds that almost succeeded in blocking her thoughts, stopping her tears. He had left her, in the night, saying he was off for bigger and better things. They both knew what he meant. Now, she watched the world like a shadow of her former self, empty smile, broken eyes. Tears of pain, tears of anger, tears of sadness and forgiveness streamed down her face, staining the bed.

He watched, his eyes taking in the curves highlighted by the covers, her bright hair painted golden by the moon, watching her eyes release salty tears. The moon glinted off his bright hair, but she had turned away, her sweet, delicate face covered. He disappeared, the lighting illuminating the room once again.

**I'm finding angst to be what I'm best at writing apparently. I apparently can't do fluff well, neither smut. I love to read them and hate to read angst. Odd right? Well hope you like and please please please R&R!**


	8. Smoke and Mirrors

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

**This chapter's title has been inspired by Lifehouse's album! These are three different ways to interpret the D/G Forum's week drabble. All of them were too long… **** Enjoy! I haven't posted for a while. **

**Prompt 1: "What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson **

1) She supposed that after all the time they spent together, that they were both too stubborn to admit that what they were doing was unethical and wrong. Yet, she longed to feel his skin against hers, to be able to feel that same magical rhythm that hummed through her bones when they tango-ed, not the uncomfortable disconnect and uncertainty exuded while she made love with Harry. Now, as she mothered Harry's children, she could still feel the pain as Draco and Astoria stood at the station with a white haired boy. Yet, she caught his mercury eyes, and inside, she watched hidden passions that still spilled for her.

2) He wanted to scream, anything to get her to see reason; she didn't deserve him, she deserved someone good and whole. Someone like Harry Sodding Potter. Yet she wouldn't listen to his yells, his pleas as he begged her to reconsider. They would meet in abandoned alcoves, and each night he promised himself it would be his last, and each night he would return again. His past did not affect her, even though his own dad had been the cause of her mentally scarring incident, his future was what abhorred him, what he hoped to stop. He wanted no part in his parent's take on his future.

If they kept this up, she would eventually be hurt; she knew it, he knew it. He tried to stop, but as he stared into those brown eyes, well, damn it… he just couldn't resist her.

3) Whenever Draco would come home during summer or Christmas break, there would be a sort of tension in the air, suffocating him as he tried to live up to the standards his father demanded. He couldn't breathe as he tried to please his father, all the while watching in hopelessness as his mother seemed to lose herself, burying under the layers of seclusion. He vowed to never leave himself, but as he tried to live, he found it increasingly hard not to be suppressed.

So when he found the beautiful room, he couldn't stop himself from drifting over to the beautiful piano, running delicate fingers over the mahogany, the gleaming ivory keys. As he played, he lost himself in a way he thought not possible, living in his music where no one would ever know. But, back at school, as he stared into those beautiful brown eyes that glowed like the piano, he knew; He had lost his soul in the music, but he had lost his heart and love to her.

**Week #2 (May 27 - June 3) Prompt:**** Smoke and Shadows (****.****)**

1) It hurt; oh it hurt her so much. Her soul as she watched him writhing in THEIR bed, her body to not be that girl in his bed. She watched helpless as he plunged again into that slut's body, as she screamed in her thorough of passion.

She fled, black hair trailing as she collapsed onto the guest bed. Did she not love him enough? Did she not try to please? But yet, as she stared at the lifeless body in the mirror, she knew; her husband was a moth, the mistress, a flame. She was only but a toy; someone to occupy his day while he waited for night. Yet, she still loved him, and as she stared into the mirror, she knew she could never stop.

2) He had thought, that if he was able to press himself on her, he might be able to feel her warmth again, feel the heat that she once was oh, so happy to give. But as he lay near her broken soul, her broken body, he could not suppress a shiver; all he felt was ice, cold and ruthless, as he had been. He could not feel her heat, even as he caressed her beautiful hair that hung limply, her eyes did not shine with anything anymore, like they once did.

Everything came crashing down, her death, his pain. And then, everything became amazingly clear. He lay down beside her, waiting for death that would inevitably come. A whisper of breath caressed his cheek, taking away his warmth, and he was gone.

3) The clock ticked agonizingly slow as she stared at herself in the mirror, eyes running over black curls, blue eyes, and pale skin... She couldn't understand it, as she watched a ghost of her former happy self walk to the wardrobe. Why he chose her instead of his love? They would have both been happier if he had chosen his beloved mistress, but yet, he was faithful.

It was killing them both, she could tell, from the inside out as they slowly started to drift away into shadows. She was drifting, without a real purpose, nothing more than a ghost; while every night he would drown his sorrows. They were dying… and couldn't be saved.


	9. Through the Years

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the plot**

**My response to Leigh's challenge; "A Malfoy inspects a Weasley after a fight" **

**Summary: From the Great Battle, to the adventures of parenthood, Weasley's and Malfoy's have bonded and fought. From Quidditch matches, to force feeding, no one ever said it would be easy; But then again, what is?**

_(Ginny, 16. Draco, 17.)_

They stood back to back, ducking and sending flying hexes towards the world surrounding them. He stood with his head held high, meeting the eyes of every challenger. She watched, brown eyes and red hair wild, sending curses to anyone who dared come her way. Their clothes were caked with sweat and blood. Dark muddy streaks ran down their cheeks as they fought.

Ginny smiled, the war was over. She watched as Ron and Hermione tried to slip out, but it was obvious who they were about to meet. A warm arm enveloped her. Her mum pulled her into a tight embrace, letting Ginny bury her head into the crook of her mum's neck. She sighed, breathing in the heavenly scents of home. Tears glistened, but they refused to fall down. She had shed too many today. While her mum fussed, her eyes swept through the devastated hall, searching through the rubble for white hair and grey eyes. She whispered incoherently to her mum, slipping away and into the unaffected corridors. The lamps still shone, and she could still hear the echoes of many footsteps; it was as if nothing ever happened beyond the great doors. Running a weary hand through tangled curls she waited, watching the shadows dance. He approached, head down, hair falling into his face. He smiled somewhat timidly, not really sure of what to say.

"Ginny—"

"Draco," she sighed. Her eyes took in his tired form, misshapen clothes. He was not the collected boy she thought she knew. She smiled; a perfect Malfoy just would do the world any good. _Not that the world really cares, _she thought wryly.

He waited, watching her reaction. Over the past years, he had become someone who she could trust, and soon enough, a real relationship had formed. They would sink into the world where reality was their happiness, trying to forget everyone else's disappointment and horro. He chuckled as she flew at him, embracing him hard. He groaned,

"That's a bruise!" he moaned mockingly,

"Careful woman!" She grinned, he had admitted a weakness. Maybe her lessons were working…

A call could be heard from the hall,

"Ginny?" Harry said, letting his voice bounce off the walls. Draco's face became impassive, his slate eyes cold. Shaking her head, she pulled his hand towards her.

"I promised I'd stay and fight for you then, and I will now and forever,"

_(Eight and a half years later)_

"Well, who would've thought?" asked Blaise, grinning at his best friend and groom as he fiddled with his pocket. Glaring, Draco turned around again, trying to disguise his sweaty hands. The crowd was overrun with redheads, their vibrant Weasley hair blinding in the sun. Ron punched Draco lightly on the shoulder,

"Head up, back straight, and you shall not get murdered by the Weasley clan," he grinned,

"Or at least survive through this whole wedding sha-bang." Draco rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Yeah, Weasley knows his stuff. Who would've thought that our Malfoy would get married, going against his playboy ways and become a some-what respectable man" Blaise grinned

"She's changed you mate! For better or worse, I'm not quite sure," he smirked, "But it helps that the she-weasel- oh excuse me, she-almost Malfoy—got you whipped," he just grinned at Draco's murderous expression,

"I know, I know. I look so much better than you, but will you please stop fidgeting?" Blaise said chuckling at his friend,

"Shut up," he murmured, "You will be better than me when Hell freezes over and I decide to make a snowman,"

"All in due time mate, all in due time,"

(In the back)

"Ginny!"

"Stop pulling on your dress!"

"Is my hair alright?"

"Stay still!" Ginny could've screamed from frustration as she stopped moving, letting her bridesmaids' toy with her dress. Her eyes were unfocused staring at nothing, the breeze rustling the gown and her vibrant hair. Hermione sighed in happiness, scanning Ginny's body, making sure nothing was out of place. Her hair curled intricately around a simple diamond tiara that gleamed in the artificial light. After all, you marry a Malfoy, you practically marry royalty. She smiled, tugging on the simple, but elegant silk dress and veil. Pansy fussed with the makeup, demanding the agitated girl to stand still.

It had been a while (a good eight years in fact), for the Weasley's to come around to the fact that their youngest girl was going out and possibly would marry (Molly had seen no faults there) with a Malfoy. Her siblings were aghast and horrified that their "little sweetheart" would be corrupted by none other than the bad boy of Slytherin. She smiled wryly, remembering their different reactions. Her older brothers, having not known much about Draco, didn't really care much. (It might have helped that Malfoy had donated millions of Galleons to the Dragon Reserve and Gringotts Bank) The moment Percy heard of Draco's numerous connections and his wealthy status, with and/or without the war devastation, he jumped on board the train heading towards the union. The twins couldn't care less as long as Ginny was happy. That didn't stop them from giving him THE TALK, scaring poor Draco out of his wits after they had both finished. It was Ron and her father who took a good five years to come around. Even now, Ron still only maintains a border line "acquaintanceship," which Draco does not help move along at all, with all the insults they both dish out every time they are in the same room together. After Arthur was sure of Draco's some what good intentions to his beloved daughter, he agreed with the match. Only Harry disagreed. Harry had been all set to propose to Ginny right after the war, but then he walked into Draco and Ginny in a secluded corner, oblivious to the outside world, playing a little bit of 'how's your father.' Needless to say, he was not, and still not, quite supportive of their relationship.

Ginny smiled at herself in the mirror, liking her reflection,

"Alright girls, it's show time."

_(Two years later)_

A scream rang out through St. Mungo's Maternity Ward, obscenities could be heard, making even the boldest blush bright red. Healers streamed in and out of Room 9, all of them with tired bodies and limp hair matted to sweaty faces. Another moan of agony sent the Head Healer running, her brown hair tied up in a messy ponytail in her haste. She stood in the entryway, alarmed at the sight of the mother-to-be in a pale helpless state. Slate eyes turned to her in sorrow, looking imploringly at her, hoping for something to ease the pain. For all of what it was worth, this should have been an easy delivery, what with the track record and all. But it seemed, the baby was being quite stubborn.

_A Weasley & Malfoy through and through, _Hermione through wryly, stepping towards the struggling girl on the bed.

"It'll be alright, don't worry," she murmured, stroking the red head's pale forehead. Ginny grimaced, clutching her bulging stomach as another spasm passed, not as painful as the others had been. Draco stepped forward, wincing slightly as Ginny clutched his delicate hand painfully. He brushed his lips softly over her forehead, his eyes betraying his otherwise cool demeanor.

"Fight for me beautiful," he whispered,

"Don't leave me now," she sighed under his touch, "Remember? The nursery, the manor, me?" he smiled tenderly, stroking her pale satin cheeks. Ginny groaned,

"We are NEVER having another baby, again!" he just grinned blankly, her humor was coming back!

"Ohh! It hurts!" she moaned, grabbing his hand again. Hermione rushed over, waving her wand frantically as she shouted at the incompetent assistant to record everything.

"You there, stop staring like an idiot and get me blood replenishing potions, I want an IV ready the moment she finished giving birth!" she hollered at the paling nurse. Ginny managed a slight grin,

"Hermione, I didn't know you had it in you!"

"Shut up, I'm not having my best friend die on me,"

"What? You mean Ha—Oh!" she pushed, her face screwed up in pain, red with exertion. Draco watched, keeping a hand on his wife the entire time. Watching her struggle, he nearly cried in emotional pain. He couldn't see her like this, if he lost her… Outside, the Weasley clan watched with bated breath as they watched the young couple struggle through the labor, physically and emotionally.

"Fight, Ginevra, fight" he murmured.

_(3 hours later) _

Draco couldn't stop grinning, cooing at the little shriveled up bundle wrapped in a SILK blue blanket. He brushed bright red hair away from his wife's tired face; she smiled warily, brown eyes drooping. Draco sighed, brushing his lips against little Orion's (If he had anything to say about the name) forehead. He could already see the little bundles of platinum Malfoy hair. She had fought for him, and now, he was the happiest man in the world.

_(I year later)_

A high pitched wail echoed in the manor, bringing back unpleasant memories of St. Mungo's. Another wail rang out, waking the two agitated parents from their slumber.

"Oh Draco," Ginny moaned sleepily, trying to tug a pillow over her head to drown out the sound,

"It's your turn baby," he groaned, crawling out of bed and pulling on his black silk pajama bottoms. His white hair hung disheveled into his sleepy eyes. Black bags hung from under his eye lids as he trudged over to the nursery.

_By the time I'm through with this, my face will be covered in bags and wrinkles… _he sighed, _Oh the horror. _

The corridor was lit softly, not blinding him as he walked next door. The crying reached a crescendo as he eased open the door. Shaking his head, he smiled. Walking over, Draco gathered the little boy in his arms. Rocking him gently, Draco watched him slowly become sleepy, sapphire eyes drooping. His white hair hung around his face, framing chubby cheeks and pink lips. He smirked,

"You are a Malfoy through and through aren't you?" he asked, nuzzling the baby fine hair,

"You know when to stop, don't you?" he asked. Suddenly, the baby yawned and let out another cry. Draco jumped slightly because he was so sleepy of course. He sighed; patting the baby's back, rubbing slow circles. Andrew let out another wail. Ginevra never did agree with him on the name.

"Maybe I was wrong," he groaned,

"You just might have some Weasley genes in you, you little fighter," he smiled as the Andy opened his small mouth wide. Finally, after a few more minutes of rocking, he had calmed down and soon softly started to snore.

"Yes, Weasley genes definitely." He smirked haughtily, setting the little boy lightly into his nursery and placed a little green dragon into his chubby hands.

"Weasley genes hmm?" asked a soft, low voice.

"Of course. Why else would he snore?" he asked slowly, walking leisurely over to the shadowy figure leaning gracefully onto the frame.

"I object, you snore all the time," she smirked at his expression,

"I do not!"

"Sure honey, remember that little cocktail and the bar?" she dragged one finger slowly down his bare arms, meeting his eyes and smiled seductively, dragging her body up his lean torso, matching hip with hip. He glanced down, his eyes smoldering. Suddenly, she was gone. Her hips swung from side to side as she danced through the doors to her bed room, calling out,

"You want me? Hmm," she tapped her lower lip in thought,

"Get out of the nursery and get me. I might just amend my statement about not having another baby." He grinned, dashing after her like he was 17 years old again.

_(3 years later)_

"Come on Ginny!"

"No Draco!"

"Let me feed him!"

"NO! You are crap with babies,"

"He is my son!"

"And mine, you can't feed him!"

"Come on darling,"

"Don't darling me! N—mphhh!"

"Please!"

"What are you doing?"

"Seducing you,"

"Into feeding Andy?"

"Yep,"

"Andrew! Please!"

"No!" cried the petulant little child, his bottom lip stuck out in a perfect Malfoy pout. Ginny smiled from the sink, washing the dishes from breakfast that morning. Taking another spoonful of some gooey substance that Ginny swore was baby food, Draco tried to get Andrew to eat.

"See!" cried Draco,

"He is a Malfoy. He should not get this… this rubbish!" Ginny just rolled her eyes, bending over to grab a towel. At the large table, Draco once again tried to feed the stubborn baby. Blue eyes turned to him, wide and watery. They pleaded and Draco could feel his barriers crumbling,

"Draco, snap out of it!" Ginny chuckled, shaking her head slightly. Smirking at her poor confused husband, she clapped his shoulder. Draco sighed, taking another spoonful,

"Come on Andy," he cooed,

"No, I don't wan' it! I don't wan' it!" Andy screamed, flailing arms and legs hit the high chair as well as the spoon full of goo. Everything became slow, Ginny watched as the spoon was flung into the air, baby food falling, as the spoon spun and landed… straight on Draco's head.

"I think those were some Weasley genes there." She chucked. Draco just glared at his unfeeling wife, trying to pick off the sagging spoon and chunks of yellow food. As he tried to clean up and Andy played with his little stuffed dragon, the door to the kitchen flung open. Startled, the pot in Ginny's hand fell with a clang into the soap filled sink. Draco turned towards the door, recovering from his surprise while Andrew started to play with his chewed up snitch after the dragon could no longer be discernable from the food.

" 'wandma!" screamed Andy, hopping up and down in his chair, trying to reach for his grandmum. Narcissa swept in, her blonde hair falling behind her. She stopped, blue eyes taking in the scene. Her usually immaculate son had a splotch of yellow goo in his white hair and his wife looked like a scared deer. Shaking her head in exasperation, she stalked over to the baby, picking him up and rocking his small body.

"Draco! What in the world?"

"Mum—"

"Mrs. Malfoy—"

"Look at the poor dear!" she chastised, shaking her head in amusement looking at the confused couple. Draco's mouth hung open while Ginny just cocked one eyebrow,

"Close your mouth dear, you might just catch flies."

"And heaven forbid that," said Ginny sarcastically. Draco just smirked, watching his mother.

"Honestly, I would expect you to have some common sense dear!"

"And the Malfoy woman strike again,"

"Shut up" Ginny smirked.

_(3 years later, Andy is now 4)_

"Give it baaccckk!"

"No! I want my broomstick!"

"I wanna ride it!"

"You have your own!" cried Isabelle, Ron's youngest daughter, clutching her new Firebolt 3000 4 Kids. Andrew leveled the four year old with a glare,

"But mine's at home! I wanna play!" he cried, lunging on his unsteady feet for the broom, Isabelle screamed, ducking behind a worn couch at the Burrow trying to hide from the blond child. Her green eyes grew wide as he tried to grab the broom again.'

"NO! It's mine!"

"I WANNA PLAY!"

"NO! ITS MINE!" Isabelle tackled Andrew in defense, brown hair flying, and soon the two children were screaming at the top of their lungs, poking anywhere they were able to reach with short arms.

Ginny marched through the doorway, wondering what the commotion was. She stood still in shock, watching two children roll on the ground, trying to _poke _each other. Her own son grappled with little Izzy, poking her chubby cheeks while the young girl tried to grab his fine hair. She regained her bearings.

"WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON HERE!" she screeched. Let it be known that she could scream just as much as her mum when she really felt like it. Both kids froze, staring wide eyed at the imposing woman in front of them. Andrew gaped at his mother.

"WELL? I would like an explanation today!" demanded Ginny, waggling her finger at the pair. They shared side-long glances, and Isabelle tried to shuffle away. She tried, and failed miserably, to hide the broom two times taller than her behind her back. Ginny sighed, rolling her eyes. She pointed at the protruding pole,

"Explain."

"Mum,"

"No Andy, Isabelle?"

"We… He… I," her bottom lip quivered, tears welling up in her eyes. Ginny softened, bending down to hug the little girl. She missed the wink that Izzy had sent towards Andy.

"I NEVER, EVER, want to see you two fighting again!" she glared at them for good measure, shaking her head.

"Give it," Andy and Isabelle scrunched their eyebrows together in confusion, Ginny smirked,

"The broomstick?" Sheepishly, Isabelle slowly walked over.

"I live with Draco honey, nothing gets past me." She winked at the two,

"Now go outside and find something productive to do, harass a gnome or something," she said, walking away.

"Ha-ha-wass?" asked Andy, but she was already gone.

"I'm telling you! The Cannons are ten times better than the Falcons will ever be!" said Ron, gesturing at the TV screen. Draco just shrugged, lounging in the love seat,

"And I'm TELLING you, that the Falcons will trounce your stupid Cannons team!" Draco sneered,

"I mean seriously, their bloody robes are ORANGE! Who has orange robes? The crazy and insane!" Ron jumped up,

"The Cannons are number one in the European League!"

"And for what? One year? And how long have they lost? A good HUNDRED! The Falcons have been the leaders for five straight years!"

"THE CANNONS ARE COMING BACK!"

"AND THE FALCONS WILL ALWAYS BE BACK!" Completely disregarding the game, Draco and Ron jumped up. Ron's face glowed bright red while Draco's eyes were narrowed like a cat. They were face to face, nose to nose, staring each other down. A cheer rang out from the door, startling them from their intimidation contest. There heads whipped around to the TV to see… the Cannons had WON in a spectacular dive from the Chudley seeker. Ginny was seen dancing in a victory circle in front of the TV, her hands waved wildly as she laughed, completely ignoring the two men. Ron smiled wildly at Draco's disbelief.

"HAH! I TOLD YOU! THE CANNONS WILL DESTROY THE FALCONS AGAIN AND AGAIN!"

"THAT WAS JUST LUCK, IF THAT STUPID BEATER HAD BEEN DOING HIS JOB!"

"THE CANNONS WON!" sung Ginny, smirking at her horrified husbands. She smiled,

"Honestly Draco, you are a Malfoy, you should be dignified!" Ron rolled his eyes,

"Right Ginny, and Voldemort is a Hufflepuff."

"Well…"

"I don't want to hear it, you Weasley's are horrible."

"I'm a Malfoy, love."

"Uh, don't remind me." moaned Ron. She shook her head, laughing.

"Like father, like son.

"Right—wait what?"


	10. Moral Dilemma

***Discalimer: I disclaim***

**A/N: Challenge response for IronSpockMaster (Hester)**

Draco Malfoy was not, in any way, having a good day. First, Blaise Zabini couldn't make it to their regularly scheduled brunch at La Campagna (1), a new exclusive restaurant that specialized in organic ingredients. His excuse had been that he had "scored a date with a gorgeous blonde". Didn't he "score a date (and a shag)" every day/night anyway? THEN Cynthia had cancelled his dinner date/shag date just because "her lovely boyfriend (not lovely enough that she doesn't have an affair behind his back), Samuel, is coming back soon." Well screw the boyfriend; he gave ten times better than that "Samuel." He didn't very well care for Cynthia, but she was quite a fantastic shag buddy, even if she couldn't chew Drooble's Gum and walk at the same time. And now, NOW, Pansy decided to call (break down his front door) him and ask (blackmail) him to go find her dear (idiot) husband's lost toad. He recalled quite vaguely about a ruddy toad that resembled an overgrown green wart in his Hogwarts days. Trevor, it was called.

At twenty-six, he should be off dancing with models in very nice clubs and drinking wine and playing pool with his mates, not walking through Diagon Alley to look for a TOAD. A toad for someone he didn't even like! Why she had to get married to that Gryffindor ponce, he didn't want to know. Why a toad would be in Diagon Alley was beyond him. The helpful fact that a toad was quite small, and how the insane couple expected him to find the said, toad, he had no bloody idea. Pansy's hormonal, pregnancy urges were getting to her. Casting grey eyes over the street and into small, shadowed cracks in the walls, he did not notice when an incredibly petite girl wearing a white T-shirt with a Muggle Brand on the left breast and washed out blue shorts fell right onto him. Instinct (and amazing reflexes if he did say so himself) helped him flash his arms out to catch the falling girl before she hit the rock-hard and hot pavement. As she fell, he did notice her red hair and gentleman-iness saved him from dropping the poor girl.

"Weasley?"

The stared at each other in the middle of the road warily, disregarding everyone who passed as they watched the frozen couple oddly. Brown eyes watched the angular face of the blond warily, noting mercury eyes and hair that lit up quite blindingly. Ginny was quite glad for the protection her sunglasses allowed her, as she studied his lean body, not at all disguised with perfectly pressed khaki shorts and a clean, crisp white shirt. Draco's mercury eyes darted from an alley way and back to the sunglass covered eyes of the littlest Weasel. _Ginny was it?_

"Hullo Malfoy," said Ginny slowly, pulling the sunglasses over her head to rest on the crown of her red-haired mess, squinting in the harsh sunlight. Draco just nodded, eyes lighting up on a flash of green in the alley way near where they were standing. Ginny cocked an eyebrow in confusion at Draco's inattentiveness.

"Well who would've thought?" whispered the blond distractedly, eyes glued to the beady black eyes staring back at him in the shadows, lurking.

"What?" asked Ginny, "I come to Diagon Alley all the- Malfoy?" she yelped as Draco suddenly dashed into the path next to the Apothecary, arms stretched out.

"Yes! Gotcha!" he cried in triumph, holding the poor toad aloft.

"Malfoy?" asked Ginny, "Would you like me to, I dunno, cart you off to St. Mungo's?"

"Malfoy's don't need hospital's Weasley. We are perfect as is!"

"Whew, I'm sorry; I just couldn't live with myself if one Malfoy in the world wasn't perfect." She rolled her eyes, wiping a hand across her brow as sweat stuck her hair to her forehead. Shaking his head, Draco conjured a make-shift cage and deposited Trevor none too gently into his new cage.

"What just happened?" grinned Ginny, laughing as the poor toad tried to jump out and kept banging the wall instead. Shaking the cage, Draco shook his head in disgust, looking at the red-head witch lazily,

"Damn Pansy, her idiot husband—"Ginny glared, "Neville was it- lost his stupid toad, so I have to return in to that bloody insane woman before he discovers the disappearance of this despicable thing."

"Funny, I need to find—"Without any such warning, Draco's lips crushed against hers in the cool, shadowed halls. She sighed into his mouth, even with the slightly salty taste of sweat, his lips maneuvered over hers so delicately that she had to grab onto his shoulders so she wouldn't collapse. Just as quick as the sinfully delicious kiss started, it ended. Draco drew back, breathing heavily, and not just because of the horrid weather as he stared down into the disheveled, flushed face, sunglasses lay in the shadows, forgotten. Ginny snapped,

"What the hell Malfoy?"

"Draco!"

"Whatever! What was that?"

"A snog," he sneered, "Even a Weasley should know that." He winced, _damn that didn't come out right._

"Excuse me?" she glared at him, pushing away and standing with arms crossed over her chest,

"Wait, I didn't—"

"What Malfoy?"

"Draco—"

"WHATEVER!" Toad lay forgotten in its cage as the couple stared at each other, both trying to get the other to back down first. So it was inevitable that they did not notice until it was too late when the poor toad that started it all finally managed to knock over the cage and pop open the hatch. It fell over with quite a loud crash; that snapped both kids out of their reverie. Ginny just watched in something akin to amusement, pulling emerald sunglasses back over her eyes before leaning against the wall to watch the poor Malfoy chase the ever escaping amphibian around, running in circles.

Draco just glared at her whenever he faced the quite amused red-head laughing in the corner,

"Damn toad."

***Whew! 1000 words exactly. **

**1) A New Jersey Restaurant serving Northern Italy cusine. Name literally means "country-side" **


	11. In which there is Cake

Challenge/Prompt: Dialogue Challenge (due August 17)  
><strong>prompt:<strong> tongue, slice, marker, clock & fox.  
><strong>quote: <strong>_"You cannot be serious."_

Pairing: Draco/Ginny

Rating: T for language

Summary: Rosemerta's chocolate delights are truly a Malfoy worthy event. Too bad Ginny think its Weasley worthy too.

A/N: I thought this was so fun, and I was super excited when I got this prompt. I kind of cheated and used a sharpie _marker_ but I think it still counts. 362 words! Its been a while since I've done this pairing...So, enjoy!

…

"Bloody hell woman, give me the damn cake!"

"Why the blazes would I do that? Its _my_ slice! You already had your piece of chocolate cake!"

"The proportion was off you aggravating bint! Its obvious you had the bigger piece."

"..."

"Damn it Draco! Get off of me."

"Give me the cake!"

"Shove it up your arse, Malfoy. You really _must _get over your sweet fetish-mmph!"

"Ouch! Oi! Damn it Weasley, your nails hurt! You're a bloody psychopath! What are they? Fox claws?"

"... Fox claws?"

"I thought it was rather clever."

"..."

"Oh look at the time! Its 7:30! I must be off... with the cake..."

"Weasley. The clock says its only 3. But I suppose with your upbringing, you never learned to tell time correctly. AND _GIVE ME MY CAKE BACK_!

"Hardy har har Malfoy. And its _MY_ cake. What are _you_ talking about?"

"Oi! Watch the face woman! Get that thing away from me! OI!"

"..."

"... You are insane! You crazy bint! You nearly murdered me with that sharp-pee thing! What kind of name is that? It smells positively atrocious."

"Well, if you died, I could finally eat my cake in peace..."

"Charming Weasley."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Weasley..."

"Mhmmm? Yes, Malfoy?"

"Give me the cake back."

"No."

"Weasley!"

"Go shove your tongue down some tramps throat Malfoy! As you can see, I'm trying to eat in peace."

"I could do that any day, but eating one of Rosmerta's seasonal chocolate delights is one of the few rare Malfoy worthy events."

"..."

"What, jealous Weasley?"

"Me? Jealous of you, Malfoy? Pfft. As if?

"You're blushing, luv."

"Am not!"

"Damn Weasley genes."

"So you are jealous!"

"NO, I'M NOT!"

"Tsk tsk tsk Weasley. No reason to yell."

"You-Malfoy-I-argh!"

"Very articulate."

"You are so...arrogant!"

"Not arrogant if all I speak is the truth!"

"Too bad mummy Malfoy sugar-coated all your compliments. I wonder what she would have really said if she didn't think your self-esteem would suffer."

"Admit is Weasley. You think I'm handsome."

"Um...er...argh...no?"

"You are such a Gryffindor..."

"Excuse me?"

"You do think I'm handsome!"

"Damn. Shut it Malfoy."

"..."

"Thanks for the cake Weasley!"

"What the fu- _GIVE ME MY CAKE BACK! _Argh." 


	12. Dancing to the End

Pairing: D/G obviously!

Rating: T for more mature content

Summary: Because, really, all she could see was a mannequin, dancing to the tune everyone else played; destroyed, and broken.

A/N: To get back into the swing of things, I'm writing a response to my own challenge! I haven't been writing for a while (The Harry Potter Files was an epic failure). I've been beta'ing a lot and kind of miss writing my own stories so that's where this little baby was born from! Its a little darker, and a lot different than I normally would write, but the idea was there. I'm not too sure about my ending but everything else, I was happy with.

Thank you sooooo much to **XxXRegretsXxX**! You're brilliant.

So enjoy! :D

Bright, fluorescent lights pulsed to the beat of the loud, pounding music as men and women drank from the bar or danced on the floor to their own tune. The crystal chandelier hanging precariously shook with the vibrations as men and women screamed to the words and danced their worries away.

Those at the bar sat and watched, wary. One or two men walked into the dancing throng, intent on following in the drunken adults' footsteps - to see and be seen, and give up their lives for a night of pleasure and passion. Women would walk past in skimpy costumes, trays laden with cocktails as they flirted with anyone within walking distance, mascara-coated eye lashes fluttering, calling attention to their assets in hopes of getting a large tip that night.

And in the middle of the throng, eyes closed to the world, surrounded by grinding, dancing men and laughing the night away with a drink in hand, a little red-headed witch danced provocatively, eyes opening and glazed as she saw nothing but the bright, colored lights. Brandy eyes beckoning, no man could deny her as they pushed past friends to get a glimpse of the princess holding court in the middle of the floor.

With her curls spilling out like liquid flames, and her minuscule, sparkly green dress riding up, showing long, creamy legs for all to peruse, it's no mystery why so many gathered on these Friday nights when their red-headed goddess chose to arrive and lose herself in the nightly passion of the world. Even as she danced in the middle of the circle, the envy of all the make-up covered, skimpy dressed women surrounding her as they tried to push their way in and pull an unsuspecting man away, no one could ever figure out who she was. Even though she came every Friday night without fail, no could figure out who the mystery woman was.

The biggest mystery of all though was, even when she was piss drunk and could be called with a crook of a finger to snog the night away, she never could be brought home for a night of rolling in bed. At the stroke of two in the morning, every Saturday, she would leave, leaving the man of the night to sit and contemplate.

So, most of the horny, unsatisfied, dancing men had to be content with drifting their hands over her arse and her barely-covered breasts as she danced, sneaking less-than-innocent touches on her pale legs and pulling red curls and letting it run through their fingers like silk.

And so, in the night, as she lost herself in the passionate life, away from the world where her parents demanded the best, where her brother ignored her in favor of his two best friends, where the Boy-Who-Lived was convinced they were meant for each other, Ginevra Weasley slowly faded away, unknown to the world, unable to stop herself from drowning in passion, drinks, and dance.

…

He was there, every Friday, without fail. The bartender chose not to think much of it, since many young, handsome men came for a drink and a chance to dance with the graceful, red-headed vixen in the middle of the floor. Yet, even as he sat at the bar, in his impeccable clothes and perfectly coiffed hair, the bartender couldn't help but wonder as he dried the shot glasses, why he didn't go in for a chance with the girl, instead of sitting on the sidelines, mercury eyes burning as she danced. He knew for a fact that the little mystery child was terribly sweet, always asking politely for a drink before dancing away like the rest of his patrons. So, he could never figure out for the life of him, why a perfect woman like her chose to spend her nights getting drunk and groped by men.

…

The white-haired man watched, ignoring the lusting eyes of the rest of the girls. He downed another glass, eyes never leaving, eyes always watching as the vixen danced. She didn't dance like the sapphire and diamond laden women, all clunky and sluttish; she danced more like a ballerina, gracefully leaping and twirling in the tight space, ignoring how her dress seemed to cover nothing at all.

Sighing and running a tired hand through perfect hair, the handsome man turned to the clock as it chimed. Laying down a few Muggle bills, he stood up and stretched, clothes clinging to his lean body, and walked out at the stroke of two. Perfect, as usual. Pulling out a Muggle Lollipop, he sucked on it absentmindedly as he waited. Slate eyes burned with intelligence and worry as the doors finally opened, and a red-headed woman and tonight, a black-haired, blue-eyed man stumbled through, mouths' fused together and hands wandering.

Pulling his wand out, letting it drift to his side as he continued to suck the red candy, he approached the pair. _Oh Ginevera..._he sighed, slowly and methodically disentangled the groping hands as the angry man stumbled, glaring hazily. Rolling his eyes at the stoned git, he guided him back into the club. They never remembered anyway.

Ginevra turned, confused, as he guided her gently to the nearest Apparition Point. She stumbled in her heels, giggling and spewing out incomprehensible words as he tugged her over. Grabbing the inebriated girl before she fell over again, they appeared in front of her little flat.

Pulling the red-headed girl in, he silently stripped her clothes away (there wasn't that many to start with) and lay her on the white, downy comforter. Smiling slightly as she sighed in contentment and snuggled down into the blankets, he put a glass of water next to her bedside, ready for her when she woke up.

"Oh Ginevra..." he whispered as he watched her, lying there like an angel beckoning, "Why do you put yourself through all this..." This time, she answered, eyes hauntingly clear as her blood red lips formed the words, unlike every other Friday before,

"I lose myself in dancing, Draco," she whispered so softly he had to strain to hear her words, "And I never want to come out. It's my only escape; dancing." And with a sigh of contentment, she fell back, and lost herself in the haze of alcohol.

Shaking his head, Draco walked out silently, making plans to get her out of the club sooner next time.

…

The next morning, Ginny groaned, head pounding, groping at the beside for a glass of water. And sure enough, there was a glass, terribly cold, and perfect for her horrible hangover. As she stared at the drops of condensation spilling down the glass, she wondered absently, just like every other week,

_Who managed to save her from her destruction every week...?_

And as she contemplated the mystery, a small note fluttered off the night stand, landing straight into her arms. The script seemed so familiar, yet so different...

_An answer for an answer. Why do you choose to destroy yourself every week Ginevra? You answered my silent plea, and I'll answer why I choose to save you. _

_Because you, of all people, don't deserve to be broken. Look into the mirror and see for yourself. I'm just waiting until the fateful day you learn that._

_-Anonymous_

And so she did look at herself, look at the flushed face with make up running down her cheeks, and hair tangled in one giant knot, and she couldn't help but see the clothes she wore, the heels she walked in and silently, her dainty hand drifted up to her face, touching to see if it was all real. Silent tears poured down freckled cheeks as she stared at her broken form. Because really, all she could see was a mannequin, dancing to the tune everyone else played; destroyed, and broken.


End file.
